


Saying Goodbye (or rather, not)

by olivemartini



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Deathly Hallows, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Thomas, having made the decision to go into hiding as the danger for muggle born wizards grow, is faced with saying goo bye to Seamus.  But how could he?  How could he leave behind someone who was so close that they were almost entertwined?  Most of all, how could he leave without saying "I love you" to the man he'd been head over heels for since the fourth year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling

The first time Dean had a suspicion that what he was feeling wasn't purely platonic, it was in his fourth year. He and Seamus were teasing each other about the yule ball, saying that they would have to take turns dancing with Pansy Parkinson, until Seamus took it a step further and said they might have to go with each other. Dean was fully intending to have a smart ass come back, but the only thought in his mind was: that wouldn't be so bad. He was about to say so, but stopped short of doing it, upon remembering that blokes don't normally go to dances with other blokes as their dates, no matter how much they wanted to. (Of course, the night of the ball they danced together as a joke, but Dean secretly loved having Seamus arms around his neck during the slow dance, having his hands around Seamus' waist.)  
The second time was during their fifth year, and the five boys had been drinking their way through a few bottles of fire whiskey the Weasley twins had snuck them (for a small fee, of course). Dean couldn't remember much about that night, but he could remember Seamus leaning into him and Dean pulling him close, he remembered Seamus whispering things into his ear, he remembered thinking that it would be wonderful just to kiss him, just once, consequences be damned. The other three didn't seem to recall this the next morning, but they all recalled Seamus and Dean waking up wrapped around each other in Dean's bed. Everyone chuckled (rather forcedly, if he remembered correctly) and blamed it on the fire whiskey, and said that maybe they shouldn't do much of that anymore. Dean said that he was so drunk he couldn't remember a thing, and Seamus repeated it, but from the disappointed and embarrassed look on his face Dean knew that he was lying.   
Dean was lying too. He'd never be able to forget being able to wake up with Seamus in his arms, never forget those fifteen of so minutes before everyone else woke up when he could have pulled away but didn't. He would never forget the way Seamus yawned when he just woke up, or the way Seamus snuggled deeper into Dean's arms whenever either of them moved. He couldn't forget any of it. For at least a month afterwards, he would go to sleep wishing Seamus was beside him, and that he'd jump at the chance, drunk or sober.  
The time he knew for sure was when he was dating Ginny. He had kissed her in the common room, and he hadn't told Seamus anything about it, gave any warning. Seamus had walked in on them, and looked like he had been slapped, then just whirled around and practically sprinted up to their dormitory. Dean had to swallow his guilt (he wasn't cheating on Ginny or Seamus, but why did he feel like it?) and make an excuse to his girlfriend, and then follow his best friend up the steps. The curtains on the four poster were drawn, and he could hear the sniffles and muttered curses coming from behind them. "Seamus, mate? Are you alright?" He moved to pull the curtains back, but Seamus held them in place.  
"Fine. Just didn't think... I didn't know you liked her, is all." There was a rather awkward pause where Dean heard the words he didn't say, the, I thought you liked me. "I don't feel good right now mate, go back with Ginny, I'll be down in a bit." Dean consented, lingering at the doorway long enough to hear the heart wrenching sob from the bed, and the string of garbled curses after it.

Dean knew this was horrible, what he was about to do. He was in love with this boy, this man, and he was going to go tell him. Just drop into his house when he knew Seamus' mother wouldn't be home, just like always, and then blurt it out. There's nothing to say Seamus hasn't moved on, that Dean hadn't completely misread the whole entire thing. And what if Seamus said it back? Dean was going to disappear, practically going up in smoke, and leave without explanation or warning.   
But as the flames in the grate turned green and Seamus kitchen came rushing towards him, he realized it was a little too late to come up with a different plan.  
As he stumbled out onto the welcome mat, he almost ran over a shocked Seamus. His friend quickly got over it, wrapping him up into a bear hug (as much as a bear hug as the little Irish could give, short as he was) and grinned up at him. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"  
Is everything alright? Dean hated that Seamus had to say that, that now every time there was an unexpected visit from his best friend, that he'll have to be attending yet another funeral or fight a death eater. It gets even worse when Dean remembers the betrayal he was planning, the hurt he was about to put him through. The words kind of popped out of their own accord. "I love you."  
Seamus blinked. "Come again?"  
"I love you." Dean muttered it, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I'm hopelessly in love with you, Seamus Finnigan, and I really want to snog you right now, but I'm very afraid you'll hex me into oblivion."  
Seamus still seemed unable to comprehend, and Dean had a horrible feeling that he had gotten the wrong idea, after all. "Is this your idea of a joke?"  
"No. I love you, and I completely understand if you don't feel the same way and want to punch me, though I'd rather that isn't how its going to go, and I just couldn't justify going another day without telling you, seeing as either of could die any second now." Dean was sure he was blushing, but he couldn't make himself find the courage to look his friend in the eye.  
He didn't have to. In a minute Seamus was there, Seamus' mouth against his, tasting like strawberries, Seamus muttering "I love you" right back, Seamus taking off Dean's shirt and ripping of his own, Seamus undoing the belt buckle. Seamus leading Dean by the hand to his bedroom, Dean closing the door and sweeping Seamus up into his arms, practically throwing him onto the bed. Seamus telling Dean how he never thought this would happen, and how bad he wanted it to, Dean telling Seamus how much he loved him and how beautiful he was. Dean crying silently as Seamus fell asleep, because he wouldn't be there to offer words of reassurance and comfort in the morning. Dean holding Seamus tight against his chest.

In the morning, Dean slid out of Seamus' grip, and got dressed. He sat back down as the bed as the sun came up, holding Seamus hand, and watching the light fall across his face. He stood up, ready to leave, but then switched out his shirt for the one Seamus had been wearing last night, never mind that it was too small on him. He grabbed a piece of parchment and quill, scribbling a horrible excuse for an apology, and even more pathetic I love you.  
Dean bent to kiss Seamus on the head, then backing up in horror when Seamus blinked awake, staring at him in confusion. "Dean?"  
"I-I'm so sorry, Seamus. I'll see you soon, alright? After this is over." He rushed up to him to give, no, take, one last kiss, and then backed his way out of the room, trying to forget the expression on his face. "I love you. Don't doubt that for a second. I love you so much."  
Then he was gone, popping into his flat to grab his bag, and on his way out of the world he had known for so long, the ache of being without Seamus almost unbearable.

 

A.N: Shoddy work, I know, but I wrote it fast. Please comment if you read!


	2. Missing You

There are things Dean doesn't like to think about.   
He doesn't like to think about Ted dying right in front of him, blank eyes staring up at him from the ground, and being so shocked he forgets he's supposed to run. It wasn't the first dead body he had seen, but Ted was supposed to still be alive, and died simply so Dean could have a chance to live.  
He doesn't like to think about the screams he hears coming from above him. He doesn't think that it could be one of his friends, one of his teachers, even his mother. He doesn't want to think about old Olivander, stuck here with him, who will most likely die in this cell. He doesn't want to think about Luna, with her beautiful optimism and kind heart, crying when she thinks no one is awake. He doesn't like to think about how he most likely will die in the Malfoy's dungeon, without ever seeing the sky again, or smelling fresh air.   
He doesn't think about all the things he wanted to do. Ride the best and newest broom, go to the ocean, graduate from Hogwarts.  
What he really doesn't want to think about? Seamus. He didn't want to think about Seamus that day, waking up and seeing him leave. Didn't want to worry over whether Seamus thought if it was all a sick joke, worry over whether Seamus was angry, or hurt, or worse, wondering if Dean actually loved him. He didn't think of Seamus facing the horrors of the Carrows without him, being chained up as a punishment or cruciod at a detention. They were partners. Who was watching Seamus' back without Dean there? 

 

It had been at least a few weeks with Luna before he got up the nerve to ask her about Seamus. Then, because he didn't see the point of keeping a secret from a girl he might die beside, he confessed the whole ugly truth of his love for Seamus. She had only tilted her head, smiling like an adult would at a child that amused them, and shook her head. "Seems awful cruel, doesn't it, to take his choice away from him? Wouldn't he have liked the chance to come with you?"  
"No." Dean shook his head, feeling a bit comforted that her only complaint was that Seamus wasn't there with him. "He's safe, that's where he needs to be. Besides, he'd only be in here. Trapped."  
"Oh Dean." Luna looked so sad, her eyes seeming to stand out in the darkness more than normal, and she grabbed his hand. "Sometimes being together with the person you love makes all the pain, all the hardship, worth it. It was torture for him, not knowing where you were. Every time the mail came, he'd seem crestfallen there was nothing with you. Besides, Hogwarts isn't much better."   
"It's better than here." He couldn't believe she was trying to talk him out of it. Didn't she know how bad he wanted Seamus here with him, to be able to hold him? To have some shred of comfort in this cold, miserable dungeon? Doesn't she know he would trade anything in the world to have one more day?   
"Dean, you can't protect anyone. Not anymore." She left him then, left him to think about Seamus, and about he most likely would never be able to see him again, and would have to hope that Seamus wouldn't forget him.

 

That's what he was thinking about when Harry and Ron got themselves thrown into the dungeon with them. There had been a particularly realistic dream where Seamus came to rescue him, and Dean was reliving every moment of it. But then there was a house elf flashing in and taking them off to some cottage by the sea (the sun, the breeze better then he remembered, the ocean), and he could still hear Hermione screaming in the back of his mind, and he forgot all about it.  
It wasn't until much later, after he and Luna were transported to another safe house, that he thought about Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were hunting something. They had escaped from under the nose of You-Know-Who countless time, and stolen a dragon from Gringotts, for Merlin's sake. He'd see Seamus again.   
Until then, he'd be stuck with whispering I love you, and wishing that there was some sort of spell that could allow the words to be heard.


	3. Chapter 3

He thought he'd have more time with him.  
He thought that somehow they'd be able to sneak off together, steal a few kisses and mumble I love you against each other's lips, and then go fight.  
Even then, Dean had this misguided idea that the final battle would be something like the DA, with the bad guys clearly marked and the good guys working side by side, clearly winning.  
War, he had now found out, was nothing like that.  
Dean hadn't seen Seamus since the room of requirement. He intended to find him, but suddenly Hogwarts was flooded with Death Eaters and giants and centaurs and these huge, terrible spiders. Walls were crumbling, sending up clouds of dust and a momentary roar that covers the screams of the wounded and dying. At one point, he was standing beside some Hufflepuff sixth year, fighting together, when she shoved him to the side and disappeared under a mound of stone, her arm still twitching as he fought helplessly to move away the rubble. Spells were being shot every which way, bursts of light flying at him, each carrying some horrible punishment that no one deserved. Greyback was running around with blood streaking down his face, a chunk of skin still hanging from his teeth. When you're fighting, Dean discovered, everyone's your enemy and all you can do is fight to stay alive, and try not to hit someone that you were friends with. He had been fighting, about to send a spell, when he came face to face with a Slytherin he had sat beside in potions during his first year. That second of hesitation when he remember who they used to be almost cost him his life. Before his mind could catch up, he was blasted off of the tower and onto the grass below.  
War was chaotic, and bloody, and dangerous.   
War had no right and wrong, no clearly drawn lines, no righteous and no evil.  
There was only the deceased and the survived, and from the way things were going, it didn't look like he was going to be part of the latter group.

 

By some miracle, Dean survived. He saw Lavender, with blood smeared all over her. He couldn't tell if she was breathing, and judging by Parvati's tear streaked face, he didn't want to find out. He could see Luna and Neville, who were alive, at the very least, and Hermione circled in Ron's arms. There was Colin, on the ground, and George beside his twin, head in his hands. He was knocked to the ground by McGonagall, who was walking briskly ahead. It was the first time he had ever seen with her hair not in its bun. "Professor." He gasped out, rubbing his shoulder from where he had landed on it.  
"Mr. Thomas." She helped him up, seemingly shocked that he was on the ground. "What are you still doing here? You still have a home."  
"Actually, I don't know if my mum will take me back, professor." Truthfully, he didn't even know if she was still alive. He had protected her as best he could, but there were wizards far more intelligent than himself. He should have asked Hermione to help him.  
"Well." A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. "I'm sure you and Mr. finnigan have a lot to discuss, due to your year apart. It seems like he'd be glad to take you home with him." Then she turned, and barked out an order in a way that only a professor of her stature could do after a war. "Seamus Finnigan! Over here, please!"  
Then she left them. Seamus was covered in grime, and blood was pouring out from a cut on his temple. Half of his shirt was ripped to shreds, and his shoe had mysteriously gone missing. In any other circumstance, Dean might have laughed, but now he could barely talk. Seamus, however, only narrowed his eyes at him. "I expect you want to come back with me? We need to talk, and I can't stay here for another minute."  
"Yeah." He had to clear his throat and try again. "Yeah, okay."

 

As they spent the evening together, the time apart seemed to melt away. Seamus cooked dinner and Dean washed the dishes, and they each sat down in the chairs they always sat at to watch the telly. They each showered and changed into clothes, Dean wearing Seamus' pajama bottoms. They talked about everything that happened over the course of the year, except for how they felt about each other. The night Dean confessed his undying love wasn't mentioned. And it was fine- until it Seamus fell asleep on the couch.  
"Sea." Dean nudged him with his foot, but Seamus didn't stir. He couldn't bring himself to wake him up, after the day he's had. Dean pulled the smaller boy into his arms, carrying him to where he knew his bedroom would be. His intent was to lay him down, put a blanket over him, and take his place on the couch downstairs, but a hand on his arm stopped him.  
"Dean." Seamus seemed almost afraid to talk, as if whatever he was about to say would scare Dean away. "I don't.... I can't... don't leave, okay? Stay with me? I can't get the images out of my head. I just...."  
"I get it." Dean interrupted him, crawling under the covers beside him. "Of course I'll stay."

 

In the morning, Dean pressed a kiss on Seamus' forehead and slipped down the stairs. He intended to make them pancakes so they were ready when Seamus woke up, but he didn't account for the sound of "bloody hell" coming from down the hall. Seamus stumbled out of his room a few seconds later, clearly upset. He pulled up short when he caught sight of Dean. "I thought you left again."  
The words shattered the relative calm that was between them, and though Dean could smell his perfect pancakes burning to a crisp, he couldn't tear his eyes away from his best friend. "I.. no."  
"No. that's all you have to say?" Seamus shook his head. "I've liked you since our third year, you know that?"  
"I didn't." This was going horrible wrong. "I've liked you since our fourth, if that helps."  
"It really doesn't." Seamus shook his head. "I thought it was a joke at first. Like, you changed your mind halfway through the night, you know? I wasn't what you wanted, or something like that. I kept thinking you'd come back, say we were better off friends, but then when you didn't show up at Hogwarts, I thought you were dead, until I heard from Neville that you were okay."  
"What are you saying?" Dean swallowed hard. Seamus had changed his mind.  
"I'm saying when I woke up this morning, and you weren't beside me even though I know we fell asleep in the same bed, I thought you disappeared again. And all I want to know is why you didn't say good bye." Seamus' words should have sounded tough, but the tone of voice he used made it clear that he was anything but.  
"I couldn't face saying good bye to you." Dean was having trouble talking around the lump in his throat. "I just wanted to say that I loved you, just in case, have that one thing. I didn't expect us to go... to go all the way that night, but I was glad I did. And in the morning, I wanted to stay there, all day, and the next, and never leave, but I couldn't. I'm a mudblood." There was a hiss from Seamus at the words, and a softening in his yes, but Dean kept going. "I am, and being with me would put you in danger, and I couldn't deal with that."  
"You could have said good bye. Could have had one day with me." Seamus voice wasn't angry anymore, but it was still plenty uncertain.   
"I know." Dean grabbed Seamus's hand. "I'm so sorry for that. You deserved an explanation. But I was only thinking of how much it would hurt me to say good bye, and I was selfish. I thought I was going to die without seeing you again. I didn't want to end up making promises I couldn't keep."  
"I would have gone with you."  
"And that's why I didn't stay to say good bye."   
There was a silence where neither of them would look at each other, and they both became acutely aware of how badly the pancakes had burned. Suddenly, Seamus was laughing so hard he was crying, or maybe he was laughing and crying at the same time, and then they were kissing, and neither of them wanted to stop. "I don't care." Seamus declared when they broke apart, grinning at him. "This is so stupid. You're alive, and you're here, and I love you, and you love me. It seems rather silly, just to talk about the one time you forgot to say good bye."  
Dean smiled at him, helping Seamus climb up to sit on the counted so they were the same height. "I don't want to leave you again. Ever. I want you beside me."  
"Okay." Seamus' Irish accent was becoming more pronounced as he got more excited. "Then, just, don't. Stay here for a week, then I'll stay with you for a week, like we did the summer after fourth year. And we'll get a flat together, and live happily ever after." After this declaration, he became ridiculously shy. "If you want."  
"Anything." Dean said, and meant it. "Just as long as we're together."  
They broke apart then, smiling shyly at one another. Seamus took over the pancakes, and Dean sat to watch him, the two keeping up a steady stream of conversation. It was how they would spend many of their morning together. And Dean made a promise to himself that he would never, ever again, leave Seamus to wake up alone.

 

A.n: Sooooo, I don't know how good this is, I didn't really intend to go further than the first chapter, but let me know what you think!


End file.
